Moulin Rouge Band Fic
by Floppy Furby
Summary: aka "The Greatest Thing" Moulin Rouge as a marching band.
1. Intro: Words from a Broken Heart

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
  
This fic is dedicated to Floppy, my partner in crime, and to Melissa, who was a fan of our fics. About a month and a half ago, she and another friend of ours were in a car accident. A drunk driver hit them on their way home from another friend's house. Melissa died, and Dora is being released from the hospital tomorrow. Please pray for them.  
  
Also, this fic was inspired by Dani, who mentioned that in the movie Moulin Rouge, Zidler resembled our band director. Thus, "The Greatest Thing" was born. I don't know how college band works, but too bad. Enjoy the fic.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Moulin Rouge.  
  
The Greatest Thing  
  
By the Furby  
  
Introduction: Words From A Broken Heart  
  
Christian looked out of his apartment's window. All around him, boxes were stacked, filled with his belongings. The only unpacked thing was his laptop, which he switched on.  
  
Before I leave, I need to get this out. His gaze wandered to the university football stadium. He jerked his head away, hit by a wave of fresh pain so intense that he considered shutting down his laptop and letting the memories stay inside him to fester.  
  
No. Gathering his strength, he sat down at his desk and began to type. 


	2. Ch. 1: You won't fool the children of th...

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Moulin Rouge.  
  
The Greatest Thing  
  
By the Furby  
  
Chapter 1: You Won't Fool the Children of the Revolution  
  
Christian walked into the apartment building, holding a suitcase in one hand and a laptop computer in the other. He went up to the apartment he was going to be living in and prepared to meet his roommates. He knocked.  
  
A tough-looking, moustached guy opened the door, closed his eyes, and dropped to the floor, snoring.  
  
A short, also moustached buy holding a saxophone stepped over him and grinned at Christian. "So sorry about Jose. He's narcoleptic, but you get used to that pretty quickly. You must be Christian!"  
  
"Call me Chris," he muttered, still off-centered by the narcoleptic guy asleep on the floor.  
  
"And I am Travis—"  
  
"Could you keep it DOWN!?" came a whiny, angry voice. "Some people are trying to practice!"  
  
Travis smiled helplessly. "Audrey. He wants to be the clarinet section leader. Don't worry; he doesn't live here." Travis motioned towards Jose's snoring figure. "Would you be so kind…" Christian assisted Travis in dragging Jose inside.  
  
A prissy, sour-looking guy was berating two other men. "Why can't you play it RIGHT!" he wailed, stabbing his clarinet accusingly at one.  
  
"Audrey, it sounds—" began the guy, who looked quite a bit like Moby.  
  
"No! I can't DO this! You" --ponting at "Moby"—"Are presumptuous, you" –pointing at the other—"are a drunk, you" –whirling around to Travis—"are inept, and you" –to Jose—"are asleep! And who are YOU?!"  
  
"Um, Christian." Christian nodded to the sheet music strewn across the floor. "What's this?"  
  
"The clarinet solo for the marching show," replied Travis, smiling as ever. Audrey glared.  
  
Christian looked the sheets over. "Doesn't look so hard. May I?" Audrey held his clarinet protectively, so Christian went to his suitcase and rummaged around until he found his own clarinet case. He ignored Audrey's grumbling, assembled the instrument, and played a few practice notes. He then flawlessly played the music. "How was that?" he asked the others.  
  
Travis, "Moby", the drunk, and Jose, who had woken up, were staring in gape- jawed admiration. Audrey gave an angry sniff. "I quit!" he shouted, turning and walking out.  
  
"That was incredible!" roared Jose.  
  
"Are you joining band?" asked "Moby."  
  
"I was hoping to."  
  
"We'll have to take you to Zidler…"  
  
"Zidler?"  
  
"The head director. I'm sure he'll agree! Oh," Travis interrupted himself. "By the way, this is Sammy," –he motioned to "Moby," who was holding a flute, "and Doc." The scruffy-looking drunk was holding a french horn in one hand and a can of Budweiser in the other.  
  
"Are you in band?" Christian asked Jose.  
  
"Pit," he replied, "Because of the…"  
  
"Narcolepsy," finished Travis, as Jose fell to the floor again. "Sammy, Doc, this is Christian, our new roommate."  
  
  
  
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	3. Ch. 2: My gift is my song...

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Moulin Rouge.  
  
The Greatest Thing  
  
By the Furby  
  
Chapter 2: My Gift is My Song  
  
Christian followed his new roommates to the bandhall. He could hear the myriad strains of practicing band members. Suddenly he stopped dead.  
  
"Who's that?" he asked.  
  
"Her? That's Satine, the colorguard captain," replied Travis, nodding at the redhead leading the guard through some stretches.  
  
"She's beautiful," he whispered.  
  
"And single at the moment. You want me to introduce you?" Christian nodded dumbly at Travis' suggestion.  
  
"We should take him to Zidler first," said Sammy quietly. Sammy did everything quietly, with the exception of music.  
  
"Oh yeah." They walked into the directors' office, where a guy holding drumsticks was also waiting. Zidler, a large, florid-looking man, glowered at them.  
  
"Why has Audrey quit, and is this 'Christian' as good as Travis made him out to be?" he demanded.  
  
"This is Christian, and we think he could be the best clarinet player—and section leader—that this band has ever had," replied Travis, looking serious for once.  
  
"That's Duke," Sammy whispered to Christian. "He's also new and he's in percussion." Duke glared snootily at Christian.  
  
"Well, let's hear it boy!" demanded Zidler.  
  
Christian took a deep breath and began to play.  
  
Meanwhile, outside of the directors' office, Satine was talking to Mona, another guard member. "His name's Duke. He's in percussion," Mona was saying. "And his father's a Broadway producer."  
  
"Really." Satine took a sip from her water bottle thoughtfully. More than anything, Satine wanted to be an actress on Broadway. She had grown up watching musicals like "Oklahoma!" and "My Fair Lady" with her grandmother, and she had taken dance and singing lessons throughout childhood. This could be her big break.  
  
Back inside the office, Zidler was clapping Christian on the back. "Excellent! Our first marching rehearsal starts in ten minutes! I'll go tell the clarinet section the good news!" He hurried out.  
  
"Ouch!" Christian whirled around at Travis' shout. In his excitement, he had accidentally broken one of Duke's drumsticks, which had been dropped.  
  
"You little shit!" snarled Duke in a nasally, weasel-like voice. He shoved both drumsticks at Travis. "You're paying for those!" He stalked out of the office.  
  
"But I only broke one!" yelled Travis. "Here, hold these," he told Christian, handing the drumsticks to him before running after Duke.  
  
"I'm gonna go get some water," he told Sammy and Doc, who were looking through the office. "Watch my clarinet."  
  
Satine and Mona saw an unfamiliar, tall-ish guy with light brown hair walk out of the office. "That must be him," said Mona, pointing to the drumsticks in his hand. "Go get 'im, tiger."  
  
Satine followed the guy outside to the water fountain. "Hi there."  
  
Christian nearly spat out his water. "Hi," he sputtered.  
  
Marie, the colorguard director, was passing by. "Good, you've met," she said. "You two have a dance duet at the very beginning of the show." She smiled. "Now get out on the field," she called back, walking away.  
  
Satine smiled. "See you outside," she said, winking.  
  
Christian ran back into the office and grabbed his clarinet from Sammy, who was walking out the door. "I'm in love," he said to no one in particular.  
  
Please read and review! 


	4. Ch. 3: ...And this one's for you

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Moulin Rouge.  
  
The Greatest Thing  
  
By the Furby  
  
Chapter 3: …And This One's For You  
  
Out on the field, Christian found his first set easily. He smiled at Satine, who was already in her set. "Satine, this is Christian," introduced Zidler. "He'll be replacing Audrey as the clarinet section leader." Satine's smile dropped as Zidler went to tend to the tuba section.  
  
"Christian? Clarinet?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, that's me," he replied, confused.  
  
In response, Satine smacked her forehead with her open palm. "Great."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing," she said, rubbing her temples.  
  
Christian stood around for a bit, looking for nothing in particular. He noticed an absence in the drumline. "Where's Duke?" he asked Doc, who was standing nearby.  
  
"Don't know. Maybe calling his lawyer or some shit. Rich prick." Doc was irritable when parted from his Budweiser.  
  
Christian sighed. "So, how long have you been here?" he asked Satine, trying to ease the tension.  
  
"This is my fourth year."  
  
"Oh. It's my first."  
  
"So I noticed."  
  
"I'm not a freshman or anything; I just needed to get away from my family."  
  
"Really." * This isn't going the way I wanted… * thought Christian, noting Satine's flat tone.  
  
"So what are you majoring in?" he asked.  
  
"Dance and music," she said, softening a little. "I want to be an actress on Broadway. What about you?"  
  
"Film. I want to be a screenwriter. And I'm minoring in music theory, so I can have songwriting as a backup."  
  
"Are you a good writer?"  
  
"I don't know. My friends used to say I was, but they're my friends. I want to hear other people's opinions."  
  
"Sing me something," she said, beginning to take a shine to him.  
  
"Well, I don't know…"  
  
"Come on. Please?"  
  
He sighed and quietly began.  
  
"My gift is my song  
  
And this one's for you.  
  
And you can tell everybody  
  
That this is your song.  
  
It may be quite simple but  
  
Now that it's done  
  
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind  
  
That I put down in words  
  
How wonderful life is  
  
Now you're in the world."  
  
Christian offered Satine a bashful smile. She was smiling. * I think I'm in love. * She shook her head minutely. * No, I just met him. And I can't let feelings get in my way right now. * She kept her smile, though. * There's nothing wrong with being friends, though. * She whipped her head around at the sound of Zidler's voice amplified by his portable loudspeaker. "That was great. Now for set 2."  
  
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